


Notice

by bastigod



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, POV Multiple, Roommates, Tender Shitheadery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22859008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastigod/pseuds/bastigod
Summary: Embarrassingly, Miya Atsumu is the third person to notice his crush on Sakusa.And it's his crush in the first place.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 97
Kudos: 2546
Collections: Haikyuu, Inarizaki Serotonin Rush, SakuAtsu Fics, SakuAtsu Fics for Midterm Procrastination, ~SakuAtsu~





	Notice

**Author's Note:**

> this fic includes  
> \- heavily head canoned personalities and personal lives for characters who have 4 panels and maybe 3 words max as of the most recent manga release  
> \- multiple POVs  
> \- adriah tomas because i dont care what the official viz translation says there is no h on that mans jersey  
> \- self indulgent stupidity  
> \- minor chatfic section  
> \- sakuatsu, bokuaka, and if you squint at just the right time when the sun has reached its apex in the sky sunaosa

Akaashi Keiji was the first one to notice, to no one’s surprise.

He’d always been incredibly observant but now that he was a manga editor, he’d finely honed his ability even further. Plus, the sheer amount of shounen-ai he’d worked on recently meant he was picking up on the tiniest hints.

It was early September, a month before the start of the V.League season. Most teams in the league held a family night to celebrate the upcoming season and officially welcome any new players. Last weekend had been EJP Raijin’s and a ridiculous number of photos of Washio-san accompanied by a gorgeous woman were plastered all over social media. After seeing them, Akaashi immediately called up his former teammate. Washio giggled sheepishly over the phone (a sound Akaashi always loved, due to how deep his voice was) and apologized for not telling his favorite kouhai about his new girlfriend.

The Black Jackals opted to keep their own event private, with no press and absolutely no fans invited. Just the players, the staff, and their families. The org valued everyone’s privacy and there was even a social media blackout. Outside of a few official photos of the suited players, that is. Akaashi greatly appreciated their dedication to privacy. He, himself, was tired of pretending to the world that he was just Bokuto’s best friend. But his fiance didn’t feel comfortable with revealing their engagement to the public. Akaashi couldn’t blame him. Thankfully, they were able to be their genuine selves around the team.

(Bokuto had come out and introduced Akaashi to the team before the start of his second season at a family night just like tonight. Shion excitedly proclaimed, “Oh! I’m bi myself!” and then proceeded to double over in laughter at his own accidental pun. He was single at the time.)

To Akaashi’s left, his fiance had Hinata in a friendly headlock-meets-hug. The three of them had always joked Shouyou was their son, but he’d brought along his real family. Natsu-chan was a first year in highschool now and the starting setter for Karasuno girls’ team. When she’d excitedly asked Akaashi for advice, he didn’t miss the fact that she was taller than her brother.

Meian-san was making the rounds, flitting from conversation to conversation, dressed in a sharp navy suit paired with meticulously styled hair. He reminded Akaashi of a Japanese Tony Stark. Except a few billion dollars poorer and a few billion shitty dad jokes richer. Though his wife wasn’t there tonight, their daughter was sitting at a table watching videos with Adriah’s daughter.

Adriah-san was currently in a heated conversation with Coach Foster and Emily Aizawa, the team’s translator. Akaashi couldn’t hear them from here, but he assumed they were yelling about this weekend’s English Premier League matches. You’d think three people working in professional volleyball wouldn’t get so passionate about soccer but you’d be surprised.

Oliver and his wife, Masami-san, were chatting amicably with Mrs. Tomas. It was an unusual sight, as the two of them were both over 6 feet tall while Anka was a petite woman even in heels. Not far from them, Shion and his girlfriend sat eating dinner, knees and hands pressed together. The love struck look plastered all over the libero’s face was utterly adorable.

The right side of the room was fairly empty. Coach Foster’s teenage son was at an abandoned table, tapping away at his smartphone. Samson had flown him all the way out to Tokyo for the weekend but he clearly wanted to be back home in England hanging out with his friends. 

Atsumu and Sakusa were the true bachelors of the team (Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to consider Hinata one. He didn’t seem interested in romantic relationships with his first love being volleyball and his second his friends.). Atsumu had been ‘pathetically single’ (his words, not Akaashi’s) for over 3 years now. That’d always surprised Akaashi, as it seemed like half of Japan wanted to date him. Though, he supposed if you had a dating pool that wide you could afford to be picky. Sakusa didn’t talk about his personal life much. Akaashi knew he had a brother, but he was absent from the crowd. So were Osamu and the twins’ younger sister for that matter.

(Akaashi briefly wondered why he saw Osamu in the EJP Raijin family night photos when he hadn’t come tonight. He decided not to expend too many brain cells analyzing that detail.)

So instead of being productive members of the evening, Atsumu and Sakusa had holed up together at a ghost town of a table close to the open bar. Both of them were nursing alcoholic drinks and poking pathetically at their dinners.

Now, Akaashi wasn’t part of this team and got most of his information about the Black Jackals from his unreliable narrator of a fiance. So, he wasn’t sure how these two behaved together normally, but this seemed unusual. Well, not exactly. Sulking at an empty table with a scowl and a glass of wine was right up Sakusa’s alley. He was obviously uncomfortable in crowds and had disappeared from every single social activity he and Akaashi had both attended back in high school.

On the other hand, this _definitely_ was unusual for Atsumu. He wasn’t exactly the charming and unflappable social butterfly that the public saw him as. There were deep set social anxieties underneath those lazy smiles. He called up Akaashi at least once a week begging him to ghost write his text messages, desperate to not make a fool out of himself (Akaashi once accidentally punctuated a text sent to Meian-san and the captain immediately responded “keiji-kun, tell atsumu to stop being a coward and talk to me himself”). But despite his anxieties, Atsumu loved attention (even if it meant being the butt of every joke) and he was mostly comfortable around the Jackals. Adriah-san especially adored him, and he was a regular dinner guest at the Bokuto-Akaashi residence.

So instead of mingling with his teammates and friends, he was quietly sitting next to Sakusa, who was about as extroverted as a Greek statue.

Akaashi pondered the situation and realized something.

_Figure 1._ Miya Atsumu currently behaving uncharacteristically.

Note:

  1. Atsumu appears to be nervous. It is indeterminate whether this is due to his social anxiety or the current situation. 2. Atsumu is casting lingering glances at the man seated next to him. 3. Atsumu is smiling softly.



_Figure 2._ Miya Atsumu’s rosy ears and cheeks.

Note:

  1. This may be a side effect of the rum and coke currently held in Atsumu’s hand and is unrelated to his current emotional state. 2. Akaashi has a feeling it is, in fact, related to his current emotional state.



_Figure 3._ Miya Atsumu sitting next to a handsome man

Note:

  1. Very close to a handsome man. 2. In a nice suit. 3. Who he’s known for half a decade now.



… Does Atsumu have a crush on Sakusa?

“Hey,” Akaashi touched his fiance on the arm to get his attention, “Kou.”

Bokuto instinctively wrapped an arm around Akaashi’s waist as he leaned in to listen to his partner. “Hm? What is it?”

“What’s up with them?” Akaashi asked, nodding his head in the direction of the table.

Bokuto’s wide amber eyes followed the motion and squinted. “Oh! ‘Tsumu and Sakkun, right?” Akaashi nodded, “Well, you know how Sakusa is.”

“But what about Atsumu?”

Bokuto tilted his head owlishly. “I guess he just didn’t want Sakusa to be alone.”

“Uh… is that normal?”

“Isn’t it normal to want to keep an eye out for your friend?” Bokuto smiled widely, the dimples in his cheeks emerging.

“Not for Atsumu!” Akaashi laughed. “Remember Fuji Rock last summer? He abandoned you after like… a single band.”

Bokuto hummed, suddenly reminded of the festival last year. “Okay… you’re not wrong. He did find me during Lorde’s set, though! And we were together during Asgeir’s too.” He gripped his chin and furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “He was gone during Major Lazer and Bjork, though…”

“Koutarou.”

“Oh, right.” Bokuto nodded. “I don’t know. I guess he and Sakusa have always seemed close, even before he joined the team. They act differently around each other.”

“Differently? How so?”

“Ehh…” Bokuto’s arm around him had shifted upwards, and his fingers absent-mindedly fiddled with a lock of Akaashi’s hair. “Sakusa talks more when Atsumu is around… and Atsumu always looks at Sakusa after he tells a joke or tries to be cool.”

“So, what you’re saying is…” Akaashi tilted his head. “Sakusa is most comfortable in Atsumu’s presence. And Atsumu seems like he’s seeking approval… or, at the very least, a visible reaction out of Sakusa specifically.”

“Exactly!” Bokuto said, a big grin spreading across his face. He paused for a moment before adding, “Say… Keiji… why did you ask?”

Akaashi briefly considered telling his partner his hypothesis about Atsumu and Sakusa. Instead, he hooked a hand under Bokuto’s jaw to pull him close and softly kissed him on the forehead. “Just curious. Don’t worry about it.”

Akaashi decided he wouldn’t worry about it either. 

* * *

Adriah Tomas was the second person to notice.

Well, perhaps notice wasn’t the correct word to describe what happened. Atsumu had outright told him.

The nonsense had begun a week earlier. Adriah was having his usual post-practice conversation with Atsumu in the Black Jackals locker room. This evening they wove together Japanese with English to talk about the sports they enjoyed other than volleyball. Adriah hated watching volleyball on television. He couldn’t resist picking apart every tiny mistake he noticed or hypothesizing how he would block a ball differently. So instead, he mostly watched soccer and handball. He’d played both before permanently swapping to volleyball in middle school. Atsumu was more of a winter sports fan with an emphasis on the various types of skiing. His little sister was a figure skater, and he watched every single one of her performances. Even if it meant staying up until 3 AM to catch a competition in Poland.

Shion had overheard them and excitedly butted his way into the conversation. “I love baseball!” The libero excitedly exclaimed before going into a long monologue about the NPB. Most of the Japanese words he used went over Adriah’s head, but he respected the enthusiasm.

“Whaaaaaat?” had been Shion’s immediate response when Adriah said he’d never seen a baseball game, on television or otherwise. His jaw then proceeded to drop to the floor for the second time when Atsumu mentioned he’d never been to one either. “Aren’t you from Kansai?! You’ve got the Buffaloes AND the Tigers!”

“Pfft. Just ‘cause I’m from Kansai doesn't mean shit, _aho_.” Atsumu crossed his arms, “Dad wouldn’t drive all the way to Osaka ‘less you paid him.”

Shion had whipped his phone out and was aggressively tapping away at the screen. Adriah stole a glance and saw he was on the NPB website. “We’re going to a Swallows game next week and neither of you get to argue.” Shion said, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.

Adriah hadn’t argued, but a week later part of him wished he had.

It was a late afternoon game, so the hot day had dissolved into a pleasantly cool evening by the time they’d arrived. Shion excitedly led Adriah and Atsumu around Meiji Jingu Stadium and generously bought both of them a jersey to match his own. Navy blue with lime green and white trim. However, Shion sported a custom one with “INUNAKI” splayed across the back above the number 6. A handful of people recognized him and excitedly asked for selfies.

While Shion was busy being accosted by fans, Adriah slipped off to buy the three of them hot dogs and an order of fries to share. Atsumu, sharing a similar idea, met them at their seats holding a round of Asahi Super Dry in flimsy plastic cups.

One thing Adriah had quickly learned after he joined the Black Jackals last year was that Shion could not handle alcohol whatsoever. It’d only taken a few innings for Shion to turn into a mess. He tried explaining the minutiae of baseball but a good portion of the things he said were too slurred for Adriah to even attempt to translate. For a while, Atsumu had attempted to make sense of Shion’s explanations and parrot them back in English. But even he had trouble understanding his senpai.

The stadium stopped serving alcohol at the bottom of the 8th, something Adriah was extremely grateful for. He had no issues with beer himself (his beverage of choice was brandy, so this was nothing.) but his teammates were a little worse for wear. Under his cap and sunglasses, Atsumu’s cheeks sported an impressively bright red blush. Shion was intently watching the game, but his eyes were hazy and he giggled every time a player swung their bat.

At the top of the 9th, one of the Swallows players hit an impressive home run and the crowd went wild. Shion threw his arms up in the air in excitement. He leaned over to plant a fat, wet smooch on Adriah’s cheek and then proceeded to kiss Atsumu on the mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Adriah saw Atsumu was reciprocating.

That was another one of those Shionisms you just had to get used to. Drunk Shion gets incredibly over affectionate and touchy feely towards his friends. On nights when the whole team goes out to the club, Oliver usually ends up being the designated Shion babysitter, mostly to stop him from kissing everyone. 

“Wooow~!” Shion mumbled after he and Atsumu broke the kiss. “You’re so good at that Atsumu-kun!” He giggled, then hiccuped.

“You too, Inu-san!” Atsumu said, his voice sounded tired.

“Thankssss.” Shion said, winking lazily. The libero leaned against Adriah’s shoulder with a content smile on his face.

“I bet Sakusa is better.” Atsumu said as he took the last sip of his beer. “I wanna kiss Sakusa.” The last syllable in Sakusa’s name became a drawn-out whine.

A single “What?” slipped out of Adriah’s mouth. He’d heard him, but he wasn’t sure if something got lost in translation. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Adriah-san.” Vowels slurred.

Adriah flagged down a drink vendor and paid an obscene 2000 yen for three bottles of water. He hoped to try and get his two drunk teammates to sober up a bit, but he figured that was probably an exercise in futility. 

One of the Chunichi Dragons players struck out for the third time and the game ended. Excited the Swallows had won, Shion pulled Adriah and Atsumu into headlocks and planted a final smooch on both of their cheeks.

Once the crowd in the stadium had mostly trickled out, Adriah corralled his teammates back to the car. He made them wait partially so he wouldn’t lose either of them and partially to reduce the chance of more fans finding them. They didn’t need photos of shitfaced Atsumu and Shion on twitter.

Before they’d left the stadium parking lot, Adriah sent Hinata a quick text asking him to check up on his senpai in the morning since they lived in the same apartment building. When they arrived at Shion’s address, Shouyou was waiting outside ready to escort him upstairs personally.

When Adriah arrived at Atsumu’s building, he discovered the elevator was broken. He reluctantly helped the setter up four flights of stairs, fished Atsumu’s keys out of his track pants pocket to unlock the door and promptly deposited him on the living room couch. 

To Adriah’s surprise, Atsumu’s apartment was surprisingly clean. He’d expected to find dishes on the coffee table or clothes on the floor, but there was hardly a speck of dirt in the entire living room.

“Ugh, he reeks.” An unexpected voice said. Sakusa emerged from the darkened hallway. His curly black hair was disheveled and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual.

“Oh. Hello Sakusa-kun. I didn’t know you lived here.” 

Sakusa sighed. “Unfortunately.” He side-stepped around the couch and vanished into the kitchen. There was the sound of a cabinet creaking open and plastic crinkling. He re-emerged and underhand tossed something towards Adriah, who caught it effortlessly. A green tea kitkat, Adriah’s favorite. “Thanks for bringing him home. I’ve got it from here.” The black haired spiker yawned, his long arms stretched above his head.

Adriah smiled and bid Sakusa goodnight.

So they were roommates. And Atsumu wanted to kiss him.

Interesting.

* * *

Embarrassingly, Miya Atsumu is the third person to notice his crush on Sakusa.

And it's his crush in the first place.

Their first game of the season ended with a close 3-2 victory over the Red Falcons. Atsumu felt his heart swell with pride seeing all the work they put in during their preseason paying off. He hoped they could claim a win over EJP next week and ride a winning streak. 

The fans and most of the staff had left already, leaving Atsumu standing in the center of the court where the net normally stood, head tilted towards the ceiling. Red spotted his closed eyes from the floodlights above him. He’d gotten into the habit after high school of stealing a few minutes to himself on the court after the game ended. Sometimes he thanked the court for serving him well, sometimes he analyzed the game and his plays, and sometimes he stood there thinking about dinner.

“Yo, Atsumu!” His eyes snapped open and he spun on his heel to face the speaker.

“Aran-kun!” His former teammate scooped him up in a hug. His broad arms were warm and tight around Atsumu’s back. Aran had never been much of a hugger in highschool, but he figured people change.

“You guys did good.” Aran released Atsumu from his vise hug and grinned. “We’ll kick your ass next time.”

“Mmhm, sure ya will _Ojisan_.”

Aran’s eyes drifted towards the Black Jackal’s bench. “Say, what’s it like playing with him?”

Sakusa was crouched, gathering up the last of his things. His phone was tucked into the waistband of his shorts and a cord snaked up to the headphones in his ears. They’d been roommates for a few months now and Atsumu had never once heard his music. He liked to imagine that Sakusa listened to something utterly embarrassing but in all likelihood he probably listened to moody indie or maybe podcasts about disinfectiology.

“Oh, Sakusa?”

“Yeah. I remember you hated that guy back in highschool.”

Did he?

It hadn’t been that long ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

Their two teams were one of the major rivalries in high school volleyball. The schools had been butting heads for longer than Atsumu’d been alive. He and Sakusa had both snatched first place at Spring Nationals, Itachiyama in their first year and Inarizaki in their third year. The two had been on opposite sides of the net through loss and victory, joy and sadness. Atsumu had stared down at his defeated counterpart, sprawled on the floor after a failed dig, fire burning in his eyes and vindication carved into the corners of his face. And vice versa. It was only natural that some animosity would develop between them.

But… had it really?

Atsumu laughed, “I thought that was you, Aran-kun. ‘Damn you Sakusa! I’ll surpass you someday!’” He mimicked his former teammate’s voice but purposefully over exaggerated it like a bad dub of an American action movie.

“I don’t sound like that!” Aran pulled him into a headlock and flicked his forehead.

“All jokin’ aside, he’s not too bad.” Atsumu headed towards the bench so he could gather his own stuff. “It’s nice having so many monsters to set to. I’m spoiled just like I was back in school.”

“It’s good to see you happy, Atsumu.” Aran gave him a half hug, ruffling his blonde hair in the process. Atsumu felt his face warm from the affection.

“Don’t be gettin’ all sappy on me now, _Ojisan_.” Atsumu waved his old friend goodbye. 

It’d been good to see Aran. But he couldn’t shake the thought that Aran planted in his brain.

Had he really hated Sakusa? He knew he certainly didn’t now, but his memory was spotty at best.

Atsumu thought about the afternoon he sat on the floor of the Ajinomoto training center lobby with Sakusa and Komori. The libero laughed loud and bright at Atsumu’s jokes while the other Itachiyama player remained silent, picking at the rice in his bento. However, the minuscule crinkles tugging at the corner of Sakusa’s mouth and eyes betrayed his true feelings.

Atsumu thought about sitting on the cold curb outside of the arena in his second year, lingering longer than the rest of his teammates. A reassuring hand found his shoulder. His eyes had traced their way up the jacket sleeve to find Sakusa’s face staring down at him. Many people had tried comforting him that same way throughout Atsumu’s life. But this time was special, a touch as rare and fleeting as a comet.

Atsumu thought about the day he’d won Nationals. The day he proudly hoisted the trophy, the hands of his teammates supporting his arm. Sakusa met his eye during the medal ceremony. He was sure Sakusa had been disappointed it wasn’t him winning the tournament, that the bronze medal hanging around his neck wasn’t gold. The corner of Sakusa’s mouth curved as he nodded, offering a silent congratulation to his rival. Atsumu mirrored the expression, warmth blooming in his chest.

He broke out of his thoughts and wondered why he was dwelling so hard on this. He realized his roommate, the current day adult Sakusa, had left without him already. “Of course.” Atsumu grumbled as he slung his bag over his shoulder. They didn’t live too far from the arena, but he enjoyed having company walking home.

When Atsumu opened their front door, he found Sakusa comfortably reclining on the couch, a fantasy novel in his hands. He must’ve just come out of the shower, since he was wearing nothing but his bathrobe and his damp curls were pinned back against the crown of his head. He had a mask on his face, one of the skin care variety rather than surgical.

Atsumu nodded his head in Sakusa’s direction as a greeting while he dragged his bag back to his bedroom. He used to dump all his stuff at the genkan before Sakusa moved in. But now he’d gotten into the habit of actually putting things away. It was a hassle at first, but he learned to enjoy the routine.

“I don’t know if anyone told’ja, but we usually go out after games. ‘Specially wins.” Sakusa’s head tilted slightly in response and Atsumu figured he couldn’t talk or really even move with the mask on. Conveniently, the timer on his phone beeps and Sakusa disappears into the bathroom to finish his skin routine and get dressed.

He re-emerged several minutes later. There were small lingering patches of red skin around his nose and eyes but the rest of it was bright. He’d pulled the pins out of his hair and his wet bangs hung over his face. His bathrobe had been replaced by a pair of grey sweatpants and a white shirt. “Oliver told me.” 

“Sooooo… are you comin’?” Atsumu asks, eyes following Sakusa as he makes his way back to the couch.

The black haired man returned to reclining, tucking his feet under his thighs. “No.”

“Aw, are ya sure Omi-kun?”

Sakusa met his eye, expression unreadable. His gaze drifted back down to his book. “Yes. It’s fine. Go have fun.”

“If you order takeout from Kamisawa-san without me, I’ll smother you in your sleep with one of your stupid silk pillowcases.” Atsumu warned as he slipped his shoes back on. 

Sakusa laughed. That sound always drove a spike through Atsumu’s heart. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, go away.”

As Atsumu jogged down the stairs of their apartment building, he felt a pang of guilt. 

He’d been looking forward to going out with the team. They’d planned a supersecret rookie initiation for Sakusa and Hinata. But if Sakusa wasn’t coming, they couldn’t hold the initiation yet. There was no point in doing it for just Hinata (plus the excitable spiker would spoil the secret for Sakusa and that just wasn’t allowed to happen). Atsumu chuckled to himself, Hinata was lucky to be getting off scot free tonight. And if they weren’t having the initiation, tonight would be just another messy night out.

Atsumu realized he genuinely would rather spend the evening on the couch hanging out with Sakusa.

He was at the base of the stairs when he pulled out his phone. He opened his contacts list and tapped on the name ‘Hokage🍥’.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Meian-san.”

“You coming, kid?” 

Atsumu pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nah, I don’t think I am.”

“No?”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I’m gonna hang out with Sakusa.”

“I’m guessing he’s not coming either, then.” A metallic sigh came through the receiver, disappointment clear in the captain’s voice. “Alright, see you at practice Monday.”

“Yessir.” He hung up and pocketed the phone. 

Twenty minutes later, he returned to the apartment duel wielding bags emblazoned with the Kamisawa-san logo stuffed with plastic takeout containers full of sushi. Sakusa was on the couch where he’d left him and his face lit up in a way that warmed Atsumu’s heart. A tiny smile tugged at the black-haired man’s lips. Atsumu made a silent vow to himself that he would see that expression more often.

Sakusa was in the middle of picking up an unagi roll with his chopsticks when an important question crossed Atsumu’s thoughts.

_Do I have a crush on Sakusa?_

Atsumu watched a smile grow on his roommate’s face as he chewed the warm tempura eel. Sakusa let out a contented sigh. 

_Yes, I think I do._

* * *

Inunaki Shion is the next person on the team to notice. Unfortunately, once Shion found something out, everyone else did too.

It was post-practice and the team had congregated in the locker room. Adriah-san had left practice early that afternoon, so Atsumu had to forgo their daily conversation. Instead, he was sitting sprawled out on the bench in front of Sakusa's locker. The black haired spiker stood above Atsumu, deft hands buttoning up a dress shirt. When Atsumu spoke, a lazy smile graced his lips.

Sakusa closed his locker with a clang and leaned against it. The surgical mask on his face blocked his mouth, but the subtle movement of his jaw implied a response. Atsumu laughed and slapped one of his hands against the bench. The two hoisted their bags over their shoulders and left the room together. Shion couldn't catch what they'd been saying, but the lovey-dovey look on Atsumu's face as he trailed behind Sakusa was suspicious.

Shion fished his phone out of his bag. He was determined to figure out what was going on.

[30/10/18 - 18:08]

[Inunaki Shion created a new chat]

[Inunaki Shion added Meian Shugo, Adriah Tomas, Oliver Barnes, Akaashi Keiji]

[Meian Shugo]: why

[Inunaki Shion]: this is an emergency!!

[Meian Shugo]: i can see you from here

[Meian Shugo]: you're fine

[Akaashi Keiji]: Hello. Was I added to this conversation on purpose?

[Inunaki Shion]: YES

[Inunaki Shion]: i need your expertise

[Meian Shugo]: hey keiji-kun!!

[Akaashi Keiji]: Hello, Meian-san. I met Kishimoto-sensei yesterday.

[Akaashi Keiji]: I told him you were a big fan, and he wanted to meet you.

[Meian Shugo]: !!!!!!!!

[Inunaki Shion]: i am so happy for you fucking otakus and your mangoes

[Inunaki Shion]: but can we please focus on the topic at hand

[Oliver Barnes]: Which is?

[Inunaki Shion]: atsumu and sakusa

[Inunaki Shion]: are they dating

[Meian Shugo]: ok

[Meian Shugo]: im leaving

[Meian Shugo]: bye

[Inunaki Shion]: dont you dare

[Akaashi Keiji changed the name of the chat to Atsusaku Fanclub]

[Inunaki Shion]: atsusaku? you think atsumu is the top?

[Akaashi Keiji]: ...

[Akaashi Keiji changed the name of the chat to Sakuatsu Fanclub]

[Meian Shugo has left the chat]

[Oliver Barnes]: LOL

[Adriah Tomas]: :)

[Inunaki Shion]: how dramatic

[Inunaki Shion invited Meian Shugo]

[Meian Shugo]: you have 20 mins to explain

[Meian Shugo]: then im blocking all of u

[Meian Shugo]: not you keiji-kun you’re an angel and we’re all happy you’re here

[Meian Shugo]: the rest of u are on thin fucking ice

[Inunaki Shion]: 🙄

[Inunaki Shion]: so atsumu and sakusa

[Akaashi Keiji]: Miya-san has a crush, at the very least.

[Inunaki Shion]: !

[Inunaki Shion]: did he tell you

[Akaashi Keiji]: No, that was just a hunch. He’s been weird lately.

[Adriah Tomas]: Did you know they are roommates?

[Meian Shugo]: oh my god

[Oliver Barnes]: Wait… really?

[Inunaki Shion]: HOLY FUCK

[Inunaki Shion]: is that why atsumu never invites me over anymore

[Meian Shugo]: im sure that’s the only reason

[Inunaki Shion]: MEIAN-SAN,,,,

[Oliver Barnes]: Are they just flatmates or do they actually share a room

[Akaashi Keiji]: It’s a two bedroom apartment. So, either way is possible.

[Inunaki Shion]: so what are we gonna do about this

[Meian Shugo]: wdym

[Inunaki Shion]: lets go to the irishman

[Inunaki Shion]: get some guinness

[Inunaki Shion]: formulate a game plan to hook them up

[Akaashi Keiji]: I apologize in advance for being so bold… but we shouldn’t interfere.

[Akaashi Keiji]: Real life doesn’t work the same way shoujo romance works.

[Akaashi Keiji]: We would risk pushing them before they’re ready and potentially ruin their friendship.

[Inunaki Shion]: 😒

[Inunaki Shion]: fiiiiine

[Adriah Tomas]: They would be cute :) Let us cross our fingers and hope they figure it out

[Meian Shugo]: are we done here

[Inunaki Shion]: yeah i guess

[Meian Shugo]: can we still go to the irishman

[Inunaki Shion]: only if ur buying

[Meian Shugo has left the chat]

[Inunaki Shion]: bastard

[Oliver Barnes]: I just realized Shouyou and Bokuto aren’t in this chat

[Inunaki Shion]: can u blame me

[Akaashi Keiji]: No.

[Adriah Tomas, Oliver Barnes, and Akaashi Keiji have left the chat]

Shion pressed the home button of his smartphone and tossed it back into his bag with a sigh.

* * *

Sakusa Kiyoomi isn’t the last person to notice. But he’s the only one who needed to.

It was the V.League winter break with no scheduled games. The Black Jackals org had suspended practices to allow players to spend Christmas and New Year’s with their families. Christmas was more of a holiday for couples in Japan, but many of their foreign players and staff celebrated it the traditionally western way. Coach Samson, Adriah, and Oliver had all flown back to their home countries. Even Hinata was in Brazil, celebrating the birth of his goddaughter.

Sakusa and Atsumu had found themselves both in a miserably pathetic situation. No partner to spend Christmas with and no family to spend New Year’s with.

Atsumu’s parents were in Moscow for their daughter’s ice skating show. He tried booking a last-minute flight to join them, but everything was sold out. Instead, he’d forced Sakusa to sit through the entire event on television. Sakusa didn’t understand the appeal, but it made Atsumu happy. He wanted to save the look of pride on Atsumu’s face when his little sister stepped out on the ice into the deepest memory banks of his brain.

Osamu wasn’t back home in Hyogo either. When he’d asked Atsumu why he wasn’t going to see his twin he’d just groaned and said “No way in hell am I gonna visit _them_.” Sakusa decided not to ask any more questions.

Sakusa had planned on spending the holidays with his own brother and dad, but they’d both come down with the flu. With several important games coming up after New Year’s, he couldn’t afford to get sick. He’d opted to switch his train ticket to a later weekend instead.

The two of them had essentially spent their entire break camped out in the apartment. The first night they’d gone out to the bar with a skeleton crew of teammates, just Bokuto and Shion joining them. Yesterday morning, Atsumu dragged Sakusa out to a market downtown with his former teammate, Kita. They’d invited him to dinner, but he had to catch a train back to Toyooka to be with his grandmother. So instead, Sakusa and Atsumu sat at the bar in Kamisawa-san, nursing a couple Sapporos and tucking away far more sushi than they should.

Today, they’d lounged on the couch all day and were five movies into a Marvel marathon. They’d started out politely leaning against the opposite arm rests. But knees and legs get tired. Physical contact made Sakusa feel incredibly anxious, but part of him had gotten used to being around Atsumu. While he didn’t exactly want his roommate’s feet next to him like this, there was something almost comforting about the proximity.

“Hey.” Atsumu said quietly as the triumphant music of the Captain America credits began blaring. His socked left foot poked Sakusa’s thigh gently. He glanced at Atsumu and saw his roommate's eyes were soft and tired.

“I’ll skip ahead to the post credit scene, don’t worry.” Sakusa sighed, picking up the remote. There was another poke at his thigh. 

“Do you want to start the Avengers?” Sakusa asked. The clock on the wall indicated it was already 9 PM. Atsumu was quiet for a few moments, eyes fixed on Captain America talking to Nick Fury. When the scene ended and the room fell completely silent, Sakusa saw his opening. A single fingernail scratch on the bottom of Atsumu’s foot earned Sakusa a high-pitched shriek for his effort.

“Yeah.” Atsumu grumbled, pulling his feet back to his side of the couch. He crossed his arms over his chest. Sakusa set the remote back down as the movie began. 

As Loki emerged from the tesseract portal, Sakusa noticed his roommate was still frowning. He returned his gaze to the fight scene on the screen. “Were you gonna say something, Atsumu?” 

“Mhmm.” Atsumu hummed, shifting his position slightly. “I gotchu a present.”

“Oh.” Sakusa said quietly. “I didn’t get you anything.”

Atsumu let out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. You’re cookin’ my miserable ass dinner tomorrow anyway.”

“True. You’d starve to death without me.” Before Sakusa had moved in, Atsumu ate nothing but takeout and microwave noodles. Hardly the diet of a professional athlete. They still ate entirely too much takeout, but Sakusa meal prepped every Sunday and tried to make fresh dinners at least a couple times a week.

There was a bowl of chicken breast defrosting in the kitchen sink with the idea that they’d prepare chicken katsudon. Deep-frying had never been Sakusa’s strong suit, but he figured it’d at least be edible. If it turned out terrible, there was one of Meian Ryoko’s Christmas cakes in the fridge to make up for it. Her cakes were nearly impossible to get, especially this time of year, but there were perks to being her husband’s teammate.

“Osamu’s still a better cook than you.” Atsumu grinned his world famous fox-like smile, his eyes narrowed with mischief.

“Bold statement from someone in strangling distance.” Sakusa fake lunged in Atsumu’s direction, making him jump.

“Murder! On Christmas!” Atsumu exclaimed, faux scandalized. He leaned far over the arm of the couch to the floor and produced a small box wrapped in navy blue paper dotted with silver stars.

Sakusa carefully undid the wrapping, peeling the tape off the folds instead of ripping the paper. He felt Atsumu’s stare burning. Inside the box sat a black half-mask, a bronze Black Jackal’s logo embroidered in the corner. He ran a thumb over the jackal head, feeling the tiny grooves between the stitches brush against his skin. 

“That was a… um… special request.” Atsumu said. “The marketing team asked if I had any new ideas for merch and well… that came to mind.”

Sakusa turned it over in his hands, and felt the soft fabric on the inside of the mask. It felt like the panels of fabric on the flanks of their jerseys, light and airy. “They made it so it wouldn’t be so hot but it’d still able to protect you.” Atsumu continued. “You could maybe even wear it during training.”

“Thank you, Atsumu.” He carefully set the mask back into the box and placed it gently on the coffee table. “Very thoughtful.”

Atsumu’s brow furrowed and the nervous smile on his face turned to a frown. “You hate it.”

“No.” Sakusa said, voice flat. “It’s not that.”

“It’s okay, Omi-kun.” Atsumu turned his head towards the paused movie on the television. “You’re allowed to hate it.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sakusa groaned. “I’m just disappointed I don’t have anything to give you in return.” He reached over and touched Atsumu on his sweatpants covered ankle. Just a small reassurance.

Atsumu’s eyes widened, his amber irises traveled from Sakusa’s hand to his face. “Oh.”

“I’ll buy you an amulet from the shrine on New Year’s.” 

A smile returned to Atsumu’s face. “Yer buyin’ the mochi too.”

“Don’t push your luck.” Sakusa grumbled as he unpaused the movie. The loud blare of the title theme made both of them flinch. 

When the scene changed from Black Widow to a young girl running in the streets of India, Atsumu shifted loudly in his seat. “Omi-kun.” He whispered softly. “Can I lean on you?”

Sakusa hesitated. The anxious part of his brain screamed _NO!_ while the rational part of his brain asked, _What are you so afraid of?_

He didn’t have an answer for the voice in his head.

Sakusa raised his arm, a silent invitation. The seat cushion sagged under the extra weight as Atsumu shifted and nestled against him. He rested his arm on Atsumu’s shoulder, hand dangling over his chest. 

This was new. Completely so.

Not only had he opened up the gate to the fortress of his heart. But he’d allowed Atsumu to tear into the masonry itself.

He wanted to feel uncomfortable. To recoil from the touch or push the man off him. To rally the garrison to protect the fortress.

But instead he felt the pressure of Atsumu’s body. The tickle of blonde hair on the skin of his face. The soft fabric of the hoodie that brushed against his fingertips. The fire that burned in his ribcage.

An mere inch was the distance his head traveled to rest his cheek on that soft hair. So he could lean into Atsumu the same way he leaned into him. 

“I’m probably gonna regret this.” Atsumu said, a whisper so quiet Sakusa almost missed it.

“Regret what?”

“Oh, you heard me.”

“You’re basically in my lap, Atsumu.” Sakusa said, his voice deadpan as he kept his eyes locked on the television.

There was a pregnant pause before Atsumu asked, “How does that make you feel?”

“Are you my therapist now?”

“I hate you.” Sakusa couldn’t see Atsumu’s face from this angle, but the tiny head motion suggested an eye roll. “Just answer the damn question.”

“I suppose…” Sakusa shifted his face so most of his vision was obscured by soft blonde hair. “I suppose it makes me feel good.”

“Oh.” There was a delicate touch on his left hand, then warmth, as Atsumu’s hand enveloped his. His fingers were softer than Sakusa expected from a setter, but he remembered the small army of lotion and moisturizer bottles in their bathroom.

Part of him regretted rejecting all of those congratulatory arm touches and high fives. He never would have if he’d known how those fingers would grip his heart and wrench his stomach.

No.

He didn’t regret it.

Because now he was sitting on this couch with a terribly dubbed action movie on the television. The lights dim and the room cold. The comforting weight of a human being pressed up against him for the first time ever, someone else’s warm fingers holding his hand like a baby bird. 

This was precisely the way it was meant to happen.

"Omi-kun." Atsumu said softly. "I like you."

Sakusa twisted his hand around in Atsumu's grip to twine their fingers together. "I know."

Atsumu's head shifted, his face so close that his eyelashes brushed his cheek. “I wanna kiss you so bad.” He squeezed Sakusa’s hand, still so gentle. “I won’t, though.” 

Sakusa smiled, feeling his cheeks go warm. “Thanks.” He ran a thumb over Atsumu’s knuckles. “This is a lot already.”

“Sorry. Guess I came on a lil’ too strong, huh?” There was a hint of a smile on the sliver of Atsumu’s face.

“You’re so fucking cute.”

“I take back what I said. I hate your guts.” 

"No, you don't." 

"Fuck you, Omi-kun."

* * *

The whole world noticed on a seemingly unassuming August day in Tokyo three years later. 

When the summer sun blazed above Ariake Arena.

When the entire nation had their eyes glued to the televisions in their homes, in bars, or in front of electronics stores on their commute.

When a long flexible hand connected to a curly-haired man in a red jersey met a perfectly set ball.

When that spike thumped against the court in the same heartbeat as the bodies of three exhausted Brazilians, fists stretched out in futility.

When the number on the jumbotron increased by one and the screen flashed red.

When the thousands of home fans in the crowd went wild, screaming the three syllables of the spiker’s name.

When the spiker clenched his fist in triumph, the way he did after every point he scored, as his team celebrated around him.

When he lowered his clenched fist, head and eyes sweeping past his teammates on the court towards somewhere else.

When the spiker ran, paying no mind to the cameras trailing after their new national hero, towards the Japanese bench.

When the Japanese national team’s backup setter wrapped his arms around the spiker’s sweat soaked jersey.

When that long flexible hand, still stinging from the spike’s impact, buried itself in soft blonde hair.

When a pair of smiling lips met another.

When four quiet words were whispered softly in an ear, not needing an answer just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed~!
> 
> im new to haikyuu twit so come hang out with me [@andraste_](https://twitter.com/andraste_/status/1257520721858789381)


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